Regrets
by Firefly Kisses
Summary: On the anniversary of an important death in Sans life, the skeleton reminisces about the fallen children that came before Frisk and his part in their fates.


**Warning, contains child death. Do not proceed if this makes you uncomfortable.**

Waterfall, by all appearances, seemed deserted today. From the mouth of the cave entrances where his sentry station sat all the way to the marshy lands of luminescent water and flowers, Sans hadn't seen a single soul since he had begun his fateful trek. Was it possible, he wondered, that the occupants of this deceptively beautiful place knew what today was?

The distant echo of a music box sung a tortured lullaby through the endless twists and turns of land, water, and rock. It bounced off the walls of the caves and was carried across expanses of open water. It seemed there was nowhere to escape the hollowly comforting sound.

Sans had grown to hate that melody. Every time he heard it he felt his soul grow a little colder and a bit more apathetic. It just served as a terrible reminder of what had happened years ago today.

He didn't know the kids name. He'd never bothered to learn it. It had been a personal choice he adhered to in order to keep himself distant and it was that distance that enabled him to do the things he had to. No. The things he wanted to. At first it had worked much to his and his colleagues delight. Asgore got more souls to use to break the barrier and in turn they were handed over to the scientists employed to discover the secrets behind the strength of the human soul. Everyone won.

Everyone that is except the small fallen humans he'd allowed to die and that sweet lady on the other side of the large door bordering the Ruins and Snowdin.

He should have never made that damn promise.

His slippers slopped wetly onto the planks of one of the many bridges he'd have to cross today and dark footprints were left in his wake as that nauseatingly nostalgic music continued. He gave a moments pause to look at the scenery and remember. That was what this ritual had always been about, hadn't it? Not that his memory was bad but rather that it was too good. He was cursed with infallible recollection. Burned like a branding iron into his mind was every timeline and every reset. While others had the luxury of having their minds washed clean he was cursed to carry the burden he knew was perfectly well deserved. He knew of his every failing and mistake. He knew every misstep and owned every bad choice. As the self appointed judge and jury of this world there was none to hold him accountable for his misdeeds but himself. To bad there wasn't some higher power to punish him.

Of course as a believer in karma, there was reason to believe that maybe that was why he had to remember the horrors everyone else had the blessing to forget. That was his wage to be paid for his crimes. After all, he was directly responsible for the deaths of four children. It was so ironic that afterward he had to stand back and watch four friends die at the hands of a child. Tori, Undyne, Mettaton... Papyrus.

Pain seized in his chest, his sternum feeling like it would crack under the pressure of his guilty conscience. Yeah, countless more than that had died but none that hit him in such a personal way. Papyrus was trusting, loving, brave, and so innocent.

But those children had been too and he had allowed them to be murdered under the guise of the greater good. Truly understanding how it felt to see innocence stolen for selfish gain made the bitterness of his actions come full circle. Still, having to live it over and over again? Was that his personal hell? Had he really earned that kind of torment?

It was a dumb question. Of course he had. How was Pap any more important than those little kids aside from the bias of his own personal affection? Hadn't someone loved those kids too? Hadn't Toriel loved those kids?

Tori would never forgive him if she knew. Just another nail into the proverbial coffin.

The first soul he'd helped harvest was a kid he found playing in the frosty edges of Snowdin. The human had been rolling up the freshly fallen fluff to build a strange statue that kinda resembled him. He had a bandana pulled up over his mouth to try and keep his face warm and thick gloves on his little hands as he carefully smoothed the edges of his statue until everything about his project was perfect. It had been such a surprising sight that the skeleton had just stood at a distance to watch for quite some time.

When Sans was inevitably seen by the kid there was no inclination of fear. Overlooking the monsters scary appearance, he had bravely asked with a gap toothed smile, "Hey Bone man, wanna make a snowman with me?"

A dishonest smile tugged the corners of Sans mouth, a deceptive glint not quite reaching the glittering lights of his eyes. His response had been to skewer the kid through the heart from behind. It was quick and painless but that crestfallen wide eyed expression on the childs face never quite left him. Still, he'd taken that luminous orange soul before it splintered apart. The body was taken to be stored in a coffin below the royal castle in some mockery of a burial and the soul had been given to Asgore. His fellow scientists had been overjoyed to have a subject to study!

That snowman, defying all odds, was still there to this day.

The next soul got a bit further along than the first, largely because Sans had been in the Hotland lab that day. When word had reached them everyone in the room had stopped to look at him expectantly. Even his respective father, W.D. Gaster had curiously turned to him to see what he would do. Sans had smiled and shrugged nonchalantly but the elder skeleton had perceptively seen through his sons ruse. He was only going to retrieve it because no one else had the gall to go up against a human, no matter the age.

Before he could turn a corner and teleport out, skeletal fingers had taken him by the wrist to halt him.

"Sans," came his voice in the calm quiet elegance the short skeleton had come to expect of his surrogate father, "Let Undyne take this one."

"It's fine old man," He replied with his usual grin, burying his hands in the pockets of his wrinkled lab coat, "Everyones eager to get it as fast as possible to catapult the research so-"

"Their expectations are not your responsibility." Gasters reasonable counter came with a soft intensity in the glow of his violet lit eye-sockets. "Let Undyne take them. She is better equipped to carry the weight of human death on her conscience."

A puff of air came out with a 'tsk' sound as Sans looked away. "Hey, I did fine with the first one."

"And I have noticed you are sleeping less." His sockets narrowed, making the splits in his skull sharpen like daggers by each respective hole. "I may not call you on your every nuance but they do not get past me. That first child you took has left its mark on you. You're well aware that every kill you make only makes it easier to do so again. You are not a killer Sans, particularly not of children. I do not wish for you to become one."

Sans gave pause and his smile faltered, exactly one such nuance he knew his father would catch before he recovered his smile and glossed the entire conversation over with a joke, "Hey, I'm already a killer comedian right? I got no intention of making this a habit. I'd rather slay em with my puns." A well placed smile, a charming wink, and Sans felt confident he'd won.

Gaster cracked the faintest of smiles but it did not cover the concern in his eyes.

"There is nothing I can say to make you reconsider?" He queried, his head bowing lightly into the high collar of his knit sweater. "I still feel Undyne should be the one to do this."

"I got it, no problem." More nonchalance.

"Very well then."

Sans knew even as he teleported away that his father words were wiser than he wanted to accredit them. What Gaster didn't say that hun between the lines of their conversation was practically haunting. Killing children is a problem and it didn't have to come down to him to do it.

Yet he felt he had something to prove. His father had made the way for him to be on these projects, shoe-horning him in where others had been elbowed out. There was a degree of animosity that may not have been spoken but was aired through stares and jealous frowns. He had to prove his usefulness to this project. He was more than a quick wit and a reservoir of scientific information. He was more than the weapons he'd helped test and develop with his Dad, and he was far more than the adoptive son of the lead scientist at the lab.

Sans knew he could make the hard choices no one else was willing to.

When he came across the kid he once more paused. Undyne was on the hunt, scouring the area in full armor. He got...'lucky' he guessed and found him first.

The kid was hiding behind a house where the ghosts had settled. It was a little boy, scrawnier than the other had been, saturated from head to toe from the wetlands he had obviously navigated. Scratched and foggy glasses were drooping down his nose, and his knees were curled up to his chest. He had flimsy note book open and a pen scrawling notes down between the blue lines of the pages.

Unlike the other child, this one lept to his feet in defiance the instant his eyes fell on the skeleton watching him. A purple soul, the one he would come to learn was gifted with perseverance, sprang from the boys chest and instantly went on the attack. His dirty brown hair was stuck to his forehead, his body crouched and ready to move, his notebook curled up and ready to be used as a weapon. The kid had obviously fought hard to make it this far and Sans had to begrudgingly admit this kids spunky spirit and smarts might have landed Undyne in a, heh, _fishy situation_!

However, when the kid attacked first and Sans had simply leaned out of the way, everything changed. Everything this kid thought he knew about the world was challenged. No other monsters had dodged! The shock of it gave Sans the opening he needed. Once more, a merciful blow from behind to the back of the neck. Sharply Sans inhaled and looked away at hearing the spine snap and the kids glasses fly off his face and scuttle across the rocks to a stop at his feet. His own vertebrae suddenly ached in empathy and his soul was thudding hard under the safe cage of his ribs.

A shuddering purple soul remained a few tense moments over the fallen childs body as its last breath slowly deflated from his lungs. Sans stepped forward and plucked it out of the air in time for Undyne to arrive. He wordlessly handed it over, pocketed his hands in his lab coat, and silently walked away.

He heard Gerson still had the kids glasses in his shop even now.

Mercifully the next kid he didn't have to kill himself. Still, he'd stood by and let them get mowed down. This one was a little girl with a pellet gun and a cowboy hat. She wore a clover tucked in its brim for luck for all the good it did her. He'd tracked her up to Muffets web in Hotland and watched the terrified child try to warn away the spiders before kicking them and shooting them away. The girl had tearfully tried to reason with them, but her fear had been so overwhelming and desperate that by now all of the kids mercy and sense of good and bad was being blurred. To be fair, they had tried to not hurt any of those defenseless little spiders and from what he saw, the girl only defended herself if she were attacked first. She'd hop-scotched over the scurrying arachnids despite her obvious fear, begging for them to stay back but one misdirected step later, one had been crushed under her boot.

Muffet's cries of despair over her squished friend echoed brokenly in the chamber and a breath later her behemoth of a pet was on the kid, drawn back and ready to strike.

He saw in the childs eyes the moment it gave up. With a trembling lower jaw her eyes closed, she braced herself, and just gave in. Was it her sense of justice that made her accept her fate after killing just one little spider? Sans again watched with black pit eyes as the spider bit off the resigned childs head. A second later its bright yellow soul flooded the room with something Sans could only liken to the light of a sun he'd never seen. It trembled, trying to hold on until Sans grabbed it. The pet had turned back to comfort its master and he was left to lift the dead body into his arms and carry them the rest of the way to Asgores abysmal burial chamber.

Why was it always kids?

For days after that he couldn't sleep. He stayed overnight at the lab working tirelessly. Maybe he was just trying to justify the deaths of those children but he wanted to make sure none of it was wasted. He extracted DT, identified the key components that culminated into a soul, he reviewed his findings, he fact checked, hypothesized, and experimented in a caffeine fueled fervor. He couldn't put his head down to rest, especially at night. During the day he began to periodically nod off at his desk. More than once he'd awoken to either Alphys placing a plate of food beside him or his father rubbing his back soothingly.

"Son..." he'd said calmly on more than one occasion, peering over his reading glasses at his adopted child. "Please. No more of this."

Sans broke out of his trance and took back to walking down the weathered path, the words of his long forgotten father cresendoing in his mind. Looking back, he really wished he'd listened to him. His cumbersome stride took each step with a heaviness that befit his fractured sense of self. He could teleport to his destination but this, he yearly penance, could not be rushed. He had to allow himself time to thoroughly loathe his existence and remind himself why he deserved the torture of the resets. He was no victim and he was no martyr. This was his personal hell. This was his torment.

He'd seen to the deaths of a soul of Bravery, a soul of Perseverance, and a soul of Justice. The next soul he met shook him to his core and made him question everything he had been doing.

Integrity.

The planks of old wood creaked under his weight as he traversed the next bridge. He could hear the rushing of the waterfall in the distance as he grew closer.

He'd first seen the kid in Snowdin. Instead of directly engaging them and taking their soul, he made the mistake of just watching. This one, like the soul of Justice, was a female child. Her skin was dark like the bark of the pine trees and her hair was a poof of naturally dark corkscrew ringlets that bobbed and swayed about her round little face. He thought she'd freeze to death wearing that airy tutu and leotards but the kid had a lot of compassion that earned her the trust and empathy of every monster she met. She came across the dogs in Snowdin and never once tried to fight them. Instead she befriended them easily, played with them, and cuddled with them for warmth. It was with their help that she made it out of the snowy forest and into the warmer more humid climate of WaterFall. That was where he made contact.

Sans couldn't pinpoint why he was torturing himself like this. He knew what he had to do but after seeing the other kids fall, he was reluctant to do the deed. His heart was heavy and his soul while whole felt fragmented from what he'd seen instead he watched her kiss the dogs noses one by one before sending them all home. When she was done she was rubbing her arms to get warm and didn't see him sitting at his sentry station right away. One leg warmer had dropped down to her her ankles and her ballet slippers were wet and need of tying. His head was lazily perched on his bony palm, watching tiredly. This one was almost too sweet to be real. Sure it wasn't that hard to win over the dogs around town but to have them following her and fawning over her told so much about how good her aura was. That was further proved when her large dark eyes fell on him. She was startled a moment but then smiled wide and began waving like they were old friends. It took everything he had to keep his smile on his face.

"Oh, hey kiddo, whatcha up to?" He asked, further prolonging the inevitable.

The child beamed the brightest truest smile he'd seen in ages. No one in the underground had reason to smile as like this kid did.

"I'm just tryin' t'find a way out mister." Her little fingers grasped the counter of the station, trying to pull her chin high enough to get a good look at him. "Um, you don't know how t'get out do you? My Momma is probably lookin for me."

Sans took a deep breath and took her words in stride, trying to keep it impersonal.

"Fraid not kid. It's uh, kinda hard to get out of the underground once you fall."

Her smile dimmed slightly. "Oh...well, I'm sure I'll come across somethin. Um..." She shifted a bit, looking shyly to the side. "Um...y'don't got somethin t'eat do ya?"

Sans sat up a bit more and leaned over the ledge of the small booth to look at the child. She was healthy looking but he saw the slight tremble to her body and the slightly sunken look in her eyes. The poor kid was starving. In spite of himself he felt a twinge of pity. Pity was dangerous. Pity meant he wouldn't be able to do his job. Pity meant complicating an already too complicated situation. Still he found himself slipping off his stool and stepping out from behind his booth towards her. She was so trusting she didn't even flinch as a walking skeleton came close.

He wished she'd run. He wished she'd have tried to fight him, but no. The little ballerina stood straight and poised, rubbing her arms as he stopped in front of her.

"Y hungry kid?" He asked, a gentleness in his tone that he internally screamed at himself for having. "Wait here kiddo, I got just the thing."

The thing ended up being a hot dog from his stand in Hotland. He walked around the corner and returned a few seconds later with the food in a cardboard holder for her. If there had toppings she disliked she didn't show it. She just happily took the food and sat down in the dirt to eat it. After a moment of just observing her take slow little bites, pacing herself, he too sank to sit cross legged with her.

"Are you a doctor, sir?" She asked, her head tilting to the side and making those curls dance around her face. She pointed to his white coat. He looked down at himself. He should have changed back into his jacket.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Nope. I'm a scientist. Names Sans, by the way. But you know, Science with beakers and bunson burners and math problems and the periodic table- all of that stuff."

"Sounds hard!" She said over a bite of the dog.

"Hard is subjective." He replied, leaning back on his hands.

"What's 'subjectave'?" With puffed out cheeks full of food she looked at him oddly.

He found himself smiling without it feeling forced. "It means it depends on who you're talkin to. Science may be a bit hard because it's new to you but I bet if I took up dancin' that'd be hard for me."

Her eyes lit up in understanding. "Ooooh!" She swallowed what was in her mouth, her pearly white teeth looking so bright against her cocoa skin, "Well I like school n'all but math is hard. But I looooooove dancing! Momma says I'm good too!"

Sans feigned surprise and replied, "Really? I couldn't tell!"

"Yup!" She took another bite and nodded proudly. "I'ma be a dancer! But I gotta get back home first!"

Sans felt a twisting pain in his chest. He knew this kid would never make it home. This kid would never be a dancer. God what was he doing...?

She finished her food and stood up, dusting off her tutu and giving her hips a little twirl, further bouncing it clean.

"How'd you get down here anyway?" Sans asked as she got up as well.

"I fell." She said in embarrassment. "I was actually pretendin' to be this girl in this ballet play mom told me about where a really pretty lady is in an enchanted forest with her friends and therer's this big ole storm and the forest creatures fall in love with her and there's this super powerful genie in the forest who wants her for his queen-"

Sans was chuckling at her enthusiasm. "That's quite the fantasy."

"Right?" She said with such delight his smile got bigger. "I just had to go dancing out in the forest just like her and pretend it was me but-" The child looked worried for a moment. "Y'see I took a leap and when I landed it was pretty far down a big hole and I couldn't climb out."

Sans pocketed his hands again. "So, did the play take place in the 'fall'?"

She stared blankly at him. "Wha?"

"Y'know because you fell?" He laughed nervously. "Throw me a 'bone' kid, the joke wasn't that bad!"

Now that made her laugh!

"I get it! Because you're a skeleton man!" she said in delight!

Sans grinned and winked, "Well, I am known for my 'funny bone'."

That one was an even bigger hit and she giggled loudly.

He suddenly worried others might hear her and began shushing her, holding up two bony hands and gesturing for her to calm down.

"Shhh, now kid, don't-"

Why was he doing this. He closed his eyes and stood.

"I gotta go kid. Um..." He looked away, avoidant of those big brown eyes. "Try t'stay low...okay?"

"Why Mr. Sans?" she asked.

He didn't stay to answer her. He rounded the corner and he was gone.

The next day went by slowly. No word had come that a human had been spotted. Really, he couldn't have been the only one to see that girl in Snowdin? Of course, the residents there were of a much more passive nature than the rest of the underground. They were welcoming of strangers and were very tolerant of human presence. It was why so many fallen humans thus far had made it past them. They simply didn't seem interested in taking human lives. Or maybe they just didn't recognize a human when they saw one.

Sans crossed his arms and lowered his head into them. More than all the other fallen souls this one was going to be the hardest. Maybe it was because he had grown so tired of the aftermath. It also was his own fault for sitting down and actually getting to know them a bit. It wasn't right what they were doing, no matter what it meant for the rest of monster kind.

They were children.

He had let three so far be killed. Three. They were someones babies someones whole world and this little kid down here right now had a family who loved her that she was trying to return to. She had dreams they wanted to pursue. And here he was with his head down into a pile of paperwork trying to forget this kid was out there facing an execution they didn't deserve.

He jerked upright as a tender touch rested on his upper spine, whirling his face upwards once more into the face of his father. The elder mans brow was drawn tight and his glasses were removed and folded against his lapel.

"I warned you, didn't I?" He said sternly. "Now look at you Sans. You can't eat, you can't work, you can't focus on anything!"

Sans lacked the energy to properly respond and no fake smile was going to fool the old man now. He just lowered his face back down onto his forearm and whispered, "It's too late Pops. We've been takin the souls of kids under the premise that we're doin somethin good for all monsters. N'yeah I get it, monsters need liberation, monster need hope that things are gonna get better but-"

"You knew this before you took the life of the first one Sans." Gasters long slender fingers splayed over his back as the much taller skeleton slowly crouched down to kneel beside him. "Science is built on the backs of hard work, sacrifice, and trial and error. You were never meant to be the one to make all of the sacrifices. Especially just to compensate for being MY son." He didn't need to look up to see that his eyes were narrowed on him. " Sans, you have always taken it upon yourself to do these things and for the life of me son I cannot fathom why you feel you must be responsible for everything. We all have shoulders, we all can share the yoke of burden and yet you stubbornly refuse. Do you gain some kind of personal validation through creating your own suffering?"

The small skeleton sat up with a hardened stare at Gaster. He ignored everything he'd been trying to say and honed in on the one thing that was said between the lines. "Judging form how you're talkin you know that kids out there?"

Gaster sighed and lowered his head to pinch the bridge of where his nose should be. His protege was far too smart for his own good. "We received word yes. Undyne is in pursuit now."

Sans felt the weight of those words sink his soul into his pelvis. Jerkily he started to get up when he gasped hard, surrounded by an intense purple glow. A moment later he was forcibly deposited back into his seat by Gasters magic.

"You are not going this time!" He barked, eye-lights alive with violet light. "Do you understand me boy? You are NOT going!"

Sans gritted his teeth, shuddering as he fought the iron grasp of his fathers superior magic. "Y'don't get it!" He argued, "I'm tired of this, I'm tired of everything! What good is liberating monsters if it's done in the blood of kids!"

Gaster took a long deep breath to steady himself and the dangerous turn this situation had taken. "You choose to ignore me so I shall remind you again that you knew this when we started our work! You knew there were grey areas!"

Sans eyes narrowed before the lights within went out. He spoke lowly, "And you knew all along that if I did the dirty work I might refuse to continue our project."

Gaster closed his eyes and with a sigh admitted. "It has been a concern. Sans, you are brilliant beyond all reason. I trust none more than you with helping construct an artificial soul."

"Y'shoulda just stuck to makin weapons." Sans seethed quietly.

"Weapons were not going to free monsterkind."

"Neither was the Core."

"The core is not done." He corrected, "I need you here to help me."

"I'll be here Pops just... Jus'...let me-" His voice threatened to crack, face turned away and his jaw set in hard straight line forcing a smile, "...try ta-"

Gaster stared a long and hard moment at Sans as he sat, practically begging to be let go and help this child, weighing the truthfulness of the boys words. No, Sans was no boy and he had not been for a long time. He was a man with his own mind and his own aspirations. But as of late he had been seeing those aspirations that had once burned brightly grow dim. He had so much to offer. It would be a great disservice to the Underground should he loose hope and give up. Seeing one more human child die might do just that.

Still, he released him and leaned the holes of his gaping palms onto the desk. He were no longer a boy he could try to control.

"You must do what you have determined to do Son." He whispered thinly. "No matter the outcome I still expect you to return monday morning to continue our formula for the next soul experiment."

Sans hesitated only a moment before he was on his feet, ready to run off when he stopped. Gasters posture was typically tall and proud. It was rare that he'd allow himself to be seen in a position that didn't befit his authoritative demeanor.

"Dad..." He called, putting on his best most confident smile.

Stoically, Gaster with his back turned to his son, slightly inclined his skull in his direction to hear him. Sans rarely ever called him that. They were not blood relations despite the very real familial connection they shared. He had always been called Pops or Old Man. Deviating from those terms to something more...affectionate, always meant something spoken honestly.

When he heard his response, he was able to manage a slight smile.

"I'll be here Monday."

That memory was droned out as the waterfall grew nearer. The plummeting water making a deafening roar as Sans waded his ankles into the churning waters. Large boulders fell downwards, easily large enough to topple someone to the landing below. It didn't take too much to time your movements. He habitually turned out of the way of the first, paused just short of the second hitting him, and then turned to face the flow like he'd done it a million times before. In truth, he may have. He closed his eyes as he moved forward past the waters and into the secret room behind.

It was a deceptively simple place, carved from countless years of gentle erosion with glowing fungi dotting the slick mossy floor. Somehow, a single echo flower survived here. The bloom known for such a brilliant glow was unusually dim and the typically face up arrangement of petals were weighted downwards like some oppressive melancholy kept it from shining like its brethren. From its bud moisture fell like tears and pooled below it. Sans stared, expression blank as it continued to repeat those same haunting words that were spoken nearly a decade ago.

He inhaled deeply and turned to face the object of his search, the last remaining piece of the blue soul. Her airy pink tutu. By now age had faded the bright pinks to a more diluted pastel shade and spots of black mold had begun to spot its delicate fabric. Under that, the old aged brown of long dried blood tarnished what had once been a beautiful adornment on a talented child.

He bowed his head, his sholders shuddering as he let himself embrace the anguish of his crimes.

Undyne fullfilled her duty as captain of the royal guard and had attacked the kid on sight. She had chased her across the wet terrain, throwing her spears and attacking as the girl ran for her life. No pirouette, no jete, or plie could help her dodge the intensity of what she faced.

With the melody of some hidden music box playing Sans had teleported in rapid succession all over waterfall looking as quickly and as efficiently as he could muster for the child. By the time he found any evidence, he knew the worst had transpired.

It was a splatter of blood that had caught his eye, looking black against the glow of a few mushrooms by the planks of a bridge that passed by a waterfall. He saw the bloody foot steps that had been drug across the moistened timbers already being washed clean by the mists and flowing waters. The skeleton froze, sockets wide as realization sank in.

He was already too late.

Obviously though the kid had slipped away from Undyne, maybe he could still get to them in time to...to...

He was moving across the bridge, following the tracks until they stopped. She hadn't jumped down the falls had she? But no, he heard something faintly from beyond it and in confusion he looked at the wall of water. Was she hiding behind it? On a whim he tried stepping through only for the stream to part and admit him into a secret cove.

That was where he found her, the little girl laying in a diluted wet puddle of her own blood. Her body wasn't still. She was panting, whimpering, crying-

"Oh god, _Kid_!" He groaned.

He crossed the room and for a moment stood over her, uncertain of what to do now. Would he hurt the kid if he tried to relocate her? Could he risk moving her to get help? God who could he even take her to? This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to find her first! He was supposed to get here in time and save her! Not like all the other kids where he could have done something but didn't!

'It's exactly the same as the others.' His mind barbed him, 'You let this happen. You coulda saved her right at the start but you didn't. This one's still on you, bud.'

"M-Mr.S-Sans..." That small weak voice made the skeleton sink down to his knees beside her.

"I'm here kiddo," He assured her, bone finger tips brushing some curls out of her face, "I'm here and I'm gonna help ya."

For a second the kid writhed as she tried to move towards him, whimpering, "... _hurts_..."

The guilt that little confession brought upon him was too heavy a burden to bare. Hot living wetness gathered in the dips below his sockets and trickled down his hard bone cheeks to dampen his neck.

"Y-yeah, I know kid." He stammered, trying to be comforting. "Hold on sweetie, I'll help."

His arms, treating her body like glass, gathered her up in a bundle to his lap. Her white leotard was stained red from a gaping wound to the softest part of her stomach. He sucked in air sharply. There was simply no way to treat a wound like that.

"I...I d-don't.. uh- understand." She murmured, shivering from pain the pain as he face buried into his sweater, "I didn' do nothin bad...Right? I tried t'be good."

"No-" He said, choking on his own words, "No you're a good girl. A _very_ good girl. Just, _please kid_ -" With one hand buried into her springy curls, he cradled her head to his chest, his other hand trembling as it rose above his head. His porcelain white face fell down into her dark hair, his tears beading on her locks. A sharpened bone glowed to life behind her and he began to take aim, "Jus'... you're not gonna hurt much longer. I'm... I'm _so sorry_...I let ya get hurt kid. I shoulda taken ya in or- I'm sorry. I'm s-"

"S-Sans..." Her pouty lips whispered weakly, smearing blood against his sweater.

He looked at his poised bone through his tears, ready to end her suffering.

"Y'yeah...?"

"Y-you're a... g-good person." Her tiny hand curled lightly onto his lab coat, " _I...forgive...you_."

No. No he wasn't. He was the worst kind of person. The kind that let kids die because the result was useful, for science, for the 'greater good'! No he needed her hatred! He needed her to hold him accountable for what he'd done!

He squeezed her little body tighter, about to do what he knew he had to when her hand slid off of his shirt and fell limp into her lap. She'd stopped breathing.

His eye lights blew out like the flames of a candle and his risen hand trembled before lowering in defeat. Her beautiful blue soul of Integrity lifted from her dead form and lit the dark tomb.

Despite it all even in a fit of grief...he took it.

That had happened so long ago and yet he could remember it with hellish clarity. Even now, the echo flower having not heard any other spoken words since still whispered what was on her dying breath, mocking his entire existence. That little child who had refused to fight innocent monsters, who had wanted to dance, who had her life snuffed out too soon because of him...

" _I forgive you_." It repeated, again and again in the same pained and dying tone as she.

He lifted his chin with vacant sockets as he once more mourned her death. From the leaking cracks above him it was impossible to tell what was dew and what were tears. He wished the falls would drown out the reminder of the flower. He wished it would erase the melody of that music box from his mind- but no.

This was his hell. This little abandoned room behind a water fall. Where a little child who didn't know the truth behind her death fell. She would never know her death would help anyone. No one had offered to tell her. No one had explained why she was being hunted. Instead she lay dying in his arms and wondered was why was she being hurt when she'd done nothing wrong. When a mere babe can recognize such a grave injustice it was certainly time to stop and reconsider everything one thinks they know.

She knew he could have saved her but still in spite of it all, she had forgiven him for not doing the right thing when he had the chance. That was the worst punishment of all.

Because there was no possible way he could _ever_ forgive himself. 


End file.
